28 , ); _HE . h" 'V 0" "1}. ::----;. # - . I! ? HEÄ TR E J _"" - A Of I I \" . . ( . ' . ø fi I '; -' El l 11 'I l ' ..*1 . p' 0, f'/!!. '/. "_e $ : f l ..]. attack. But that was just a feeling on my part, and I did not let it interfere with my whole-hearted enjoyment of the play. . Mr. Howard is superb in the rôle of 'the foot-sore philosopher and gigolo, d h d " b ". d an t e wor super IS not use loosely. He rarely moves from his chair throughout the play, and yet he seems to be constantly in action. This does not mean that he jumps about in his chair or juggles lamps. In fact, he is more the lethargic type. But there is a constant emanation of intelligence and-oh, let's say it-charm which makes his Alan Squier one of the no- table characterizations of the year.. Its effectiveness is all the more re- markable when one considers that much of the time he is listening to, or being berated by, people who in their own right command respectful attention. Humphrey Bogart as the bandit chief- tain, Charles Dow Clark as the gaffer who was once missed by Billy the Kid, Frank Milan as the perpetual halfback, and Miss Peggy Conklin as the young lady in whose hands Mr. Sherwood places the baton for the race's next lap in Life's Relay, all talk, and talk well, to Mr. Howard, although Mr. Bogart, too, does some excel- Ie.nt listening. In fact, the play itself might be called "talky" during those periods when it isn't in ripsnorting action, but it is good talk and nobody minds, which is a great tribute to every- body concerned. A GOOD AVERAGE S PEAKING of plays which tele- graph success before they are even out of rehearsal, I give you one which is announced as having been written by Robert Sherwood, with Les- lie Howard as its star, and Gilbert Mil- ler and Arthur Hopkins as its co-pro- ducers. "In the bag" is too hit-or-miss a phrase to describe the chances of such a production. "The Petrified Forest" lived up to expectations, and is a credit to all four gen tlemen connected with it. Mr. Sher- wood has worked his way back from ancient Rome and postwar Vienna to the Black Mesa Bar-B-Q gas station on the Arizona desert, where he gives \ J;' \ \ ,\ .._-- ---- 'Y \ \ ",/ 1\ '?J "-./ I'J!' J '.;,!r::' ----- - \ \ , I us an entertaining summary of the pres- ent state of our civilization through the speeches of a literary lounger, a young girl of French-American Legion parentage, various bandits, millionaires, and machine guns. Into all this he has put some of his funniest lines, as well as some of his nicest moments of senti- ment and philosophizing. I did feel that toward the end of the play too many people were lying on the floor for too long a time, and that possibly a barrage of machine-gun bul- lets might have in rea] life precluded the complete resumption of the vari- ous tender and facetious conversations which had been going on before the -:=.- ... . tI , iIi( , " "..-... r. ,; ,"J ' . : -: ;,,; .,. '? I ." ,. ':., \ =::--... F V "ANYTHING GOeS!" Victor Moore with his little putt-putt-putt is. looking in just the wrong direction if he wants to bring down William Gaxton and Ethel Merman'. There 1S no reason he should, however, because the three of them make up a very congenial team at the Alvin Theatre. I SAW "The Old Maid" after it had opened, when evidently something had been done to correct whatever flaws there may have been before. As it stands now, it is an interesting and moving play, acted with distinction and worthy of any- one's attention who doesn't mind a good cry now and then. I would not recommend it for late dinner parties arriving at nine-thirty, or for rough-and- ready males, home from the range, as it deals chiefly with the mental and emotional states of a woman who, through cer- tain legal and social prejudices, is obliged to play "cousin" to her illegitimate daughter an her life. It is also not what you might call a "wowser" for ac- tion. But thanks to the perform-